


The Point of Stability

by hannah999



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Porn, Smut, Subspace, Suggestive Themes, Will needs to pay attention, otherwise Hannibal will get huffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah999/pseuds/hannah999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Hannibal could not have Wills contemplation through his crime scenes then he at least expected his attention in the flesh, so to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Point of Stability

“Every person needs a point of stability in their life Will. There is no shame in that.”

Even with the low soothing tone meticulously inflected within Hannibal’s voice, he could tell that Will was oblivious to all that was being directed towards him. Here in the conscientious comforting hues of Hannibal’s office, Will had come for his nightly therapy session, a session Hannibal was reluctant to name as such, surely himself and good Will had surpassed the trivialities of the patient/doctor relationship? Either way it seemed that Will was no longer interested in the present, instead he seemed stuck in his mind, unable to disconnect, most probably still replaying the last murder scene he had attended. A scene that Hannibal knows was not one of the Chesapeake Rippers and that would not do, it would not do at all. If Hannibal could not have Wills contemplation through his crime scenes then he at least expected his attention in the flesh, so to speak.

Hannibal uncrossed and then crossed his legs again, a casual movement to the outside observer but to an intent viewer it was a direct sign of his increasing restlessness. Will was not cooperating and Hannibal was nothing if not inventive with his methods.

“William.” Darker now, sharper, with just enough of Hannibal’s true nature reflected within to catch Will’s interest. And catch it does. Like one of his prized dogs, he snaps to attention at the slightest whiff of danger; straightening his spine in the seat he was slouching on. Aware of Will’s newly found attentions, Hannibal lets his mouth curve into a quick smirk before smoothing his face out, a well timed push of his feet and he gracefully levels himself into a standing position, taking his time to straighten the cuffs of his suit out.

“Now that I have your attention Will.” Hannibal traced the blush that spread over Will’s cheeks obsessively with his eyes, a fleeting thought of what his blood would look like on the outside, spread over his cheeks, like tears. A blink of an eye and the thought dissipates as quickly as it appeared, leaving a warm shiver to travel down the good doctors spine. Relishing the last tingle and aware that Will is eyeing his every movement, Hannibal starts a slow and deliberate pace, circling Will and stopping just behind him, that maddening inch out of his sight. Hannibal can see the tendons in Will’s neck contract as he struggles not to turn his head in curiosity, a battle of wills that Hannibal is far more experienced and willing to indulge in.

With perfectly timed precision, Dr Lecter lowers his palm onto Will’s shoulder, the warmth of him seeping through his thin, worn shirt and up into Hannibal’s hand. His hackles, as expected, immediately rise at the touch and Hannibal is reminded of the numerous feral qualities that Will possesses. He considered the pros and cons of continuing; to do so could be the ending or the very beginning of their relationship, as Hannibal was reluctant to call it anything else. No mater how one-sided or consuming it may be; steeped in bloody tears, Hannibal has never heard of anything so delicious.

And so, Hannibal lets his hand slide all the way up Will’s shoulder to the back of his neck, leaning down to speak directly into his ear, letting his lips graze Will’s lobe as his breath tickles the fine hairs on his skin. “You must learn to let go, William.” The forceful way Hannibal stated his name seemed to be the key as Will involuntarily shuddered. It appeared that Will had a predisposition for following orders, nothing that Hannibal hadn’t already theorised, but oh, it was so much better in reality. Hannibal let his eyes close slowly as he pulled Will’s neck to the side and inhaled deeply, leaning further down to skim his nose along the column of Will’s neck.

“Wha-what are you doing?” the question was hoarse and shaky, whispered between ragged in-drawn breaths. Will’s confusion was clearly intoned but the fact that he did not struggle within Hannibal’s hold spoke more loudly then he cared to admit. Thoughts of a beta submitting to the alpha stole through both minds and caused Hannibal to smile, not his usual pleasantry but one with more teeth and viciousness that screamed _predator_. But by the time he had guided Will into standing up and facing him, the smile was gone, replaced with a sympathetic hue, dashed with a part of hunger, he had dear Williams attention to keep after all.

“Hush, dear Will. Such questions are beneath you. Every person needs a point of stability within their lives.” He reiterated from before as he swiped his thumb across Will’s plump bottom lip, which was ripe and red. “For you, William, I am that post. However, to achieve this; you must let go. And I will be here to guide you back.”

A thought crossed through Will’s head as Hannibal lowered his own to graze his lips upon Will’s.

_"Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made."_

A second later and it was wiped away by the forceful nature of Hannibal’s tongue, sweeping along Will’s lips with swipes that left him breathless. Gasping into the kiss long enough for Hannibal to slide his tongue into Will’s own mouth and lick across the roof. Deftly manoeuvring Will’s head further back to reach farther into his mouth, licking the backs of his teeth and massaging his tongue. Will could do nothing but keep his knees from buckling under the onslaught, bringing his hands up to clench around the lapels of Hannibal’s suit, when a sudden realisation made him freeze; _He’s tasting me._

A deep whining sound emerged from between the pair and it took Will longer than it should have to realise that that particular noise was coming from him. He wrenched his head away to draw in a ragged breath, his chest moving upwards rapidly and his head dizzy from the lack of oxygen, it took him longer than he cared to admit to be able to focus his gaze upon Hannibal who was staring at Will in hunger; the pupils of his eyes had doubled in size and seemed to dominate the maroon orbs. When he noticed that he was still staring into Hannibal’s eyes he wrenched his own eye line away to stare at Hannibal’s lips. The usually severe thin lines had reddened and were slick with spit making them look obscenely full and abused, as if Hannibal knew what Will was thinking _Not possible, right?_ His lips turned up at the corner, a smirk that sent shivers down Will’s spine, whether good or bad, he did not know, nor care to examine.

Will was dragged back to the present by Hannibal’s hand which had migrated into his curls and pulled sharply, “Ahh” an involuntary noise that Will wished he could take back, however, it seemed to inflame Hannibal more as he used the hand situated in Will’s hair to guide him towards the desk in the middle of the room with a simple “Come.”

Will followed meekly, a hand of his own still scrunched in Hannibal’s suit and when they arrived at Dr Lecter’s ornate, oak desk, Hannibal gave Will’s hand a pointed look causing him to let go with a flush, adding to his already pink state.

Hannibal rewarded him with the barest touch of lips upon lips and a quiet “Good boy” that made Will’s heart jump in his chest; there was no question as to what would happen now and Will’s cock twitched within his jeans as to the numerous possibilities that could occur. Try as he might, Will could not play the uninterested card, as a matter of fact, he was just as interested in this as his cock was, if not more so. There was no denying that Hannibal was alluring, with his finely made suits, his frankly, incredible, culinary skills and that ineffable something that hid behind all of that; a primitive savagery that lay behind his cultured background and charming manners. That, that was what drew Will in and try as he might, he could no longer deny it.

This does not mean he will go easily though, and so when Hannibal leads Will’s body so it’s bending over the monolith that is his desk, Will places his hands flat upon the surface and locks his arms; a solid show of wilfulness. Despite the increasing pressure of Hannibal’s commanding hand on the back of his head, Will refuses to lower himself flat onto the desk, a challenge clearly set.

“William” his full name again and Will is as helpless as he was the first time Hannibal used it. While he is consumed by the smoky resonance of Hannibal’s voice, he loses concentration enough so that he doesn’t anticipate the kick to the back of his knee. He crumbles as his legs give out underneath him and his arms fail to hold up the whole of his body weight. Resulting in his whole upper body collapsing onto the desk and his legs scrambling for purchase on the floor. While he tries to get the feeling back in his leg, Hannibal knocks both of them wider as he pushes down on Will’s head making Will’s ass stick out further and a dull ache to appear behind his eyes.

“Relax. Let go Will.”

Will manages to relax his body, slumping further into the desk, conceding to Hannibal but he can’t let go and he tells him as much; “I c-can’t. I don’t know how.” After a beat of silence, Will breaks, pleading in a whispered “Please.” The hand from his head has lowered back down to the nape of his neck where it massages in a deep steady rhythm, loosening Will and making him pliable, so when Hannibal’s other hand sneaks between the desk and his hips to undo his belt and jeans he doesn’t notice, until Hannibal’s hand brushes his erection, wrenching a gasp out of his mouth. The next thing Will becomes aware of is a cold breeze brushing across the sensitive skin of the back of his thighs and his buttocks followed by a warm palm lightly stroking over his hip bone. Even though he’d asked for it, Will’s reaction when the first smack hits is one of shock, his hips rise ups and the feel of his cock brushing across the desk is enough to drag a guttural sound out of his throat. His cock is flushed a dark pink and a bead of pre-come drips from the tips and lands on the desk making it so when the next hit comes, his cock slides easier against the hard surface. The very idea of coming on Dr Lecter’s desk forces a hysterical giggle out of his mouth. Hannibal pauses in his task, cocks his head to the side and swings. His hand connects with Will’s plump behind with a loud crack and a beat of stunned silence follows before Will lets out a truly magnificent moan. From then on out, Will loses focus, the hits come in a steady, repetitive rhythm, insignificantly harder each time, until the pain is nothing but a small buzzing in the back of his brain, he floats above it all and only comes down when Hannibal forces two fingers into his mouth. He sucks sloppily, twirling his fingers around the damp fingers and sucking wetly until the fingers pull away, he follows them as they retreat and only then realises what is going to happen. He surprises himself with how much it doesn’t affect him, the feeling from before is buzzing lowly in the back of his mind and he decides that the examination of his masculinity can wait till later as he feels a damp finger push it’s way into him, relishing in the burn.

The sight of Hannibal’s finger entering Will is glorious and he has to purposefully control his movement, less he completely unleashes himself upon him, a sight that Will, will most probably never be ready for. He could not eat the profiler. Not yet, maybe not ever for the prospect of _owning_ him, completely, mind and body, was simply greater than his appetite. Although the idea of _consuming_ him is also appealing, there is much that Hannibal wants that factor in with him being alive and healthy, if not in mind then in body. Because William may think with his head but he irrefutably rules with his heart. And his heart is what Hannibal will have, either way. For now though, Hannibal must _claim_ him.

And so he adds a second finger, transfixed as Will’s hole stretches to accommodate both fingers, knowing by the red flush surrounding both digits, of the burn Will must be experiencing. He curls his fingers slightly and finds what he is searching for in the way that Will’s spine arches and another loud cry crests through his mouth. Slipping his fingers back out and baring his teeth, he leans over Will’s back and forces his fingers in good Will’s mouth. As he feels him, lathering his fingers he is faced with the sight of Will’s neck arched and craning, the sight is too much and he digs his teeth into the supple flesh, only stopping when Will gags on his fingers and he tastes the copper tinge of blood.

Pushing himself up straight, Hannibal fingers Will’s hole teasingly, spreading the spit around and in as he undoes his own belt and trousers, leaving them around his hips as he pulls his erection free. He holds his hand up to his mouth and spits while making a moue of disgust. Archaic as it is, it is the only thing that will suffice for now, Hannibal will not take the chance of running off for lubricant only to find Will has flown the nest in his absence. He spreads his own spit along his shaft as he lines up. Pressing slowly but intently until he feels Will give under the onslaught, he becomes aware of Will’s mewling little cries as he pulls back and slowly pushes back in, snapping his hips towards the end. Deftly he pulls Will’s hips up until his toes barely touch the floor, angling until he hears Will’s voice crack in pleasure.

The pressure around his erection is nice but the sight of Will laid out before him, a virtual buffet, has him snapping his hips quicker. Through the noise of skin slapping skin, the desk moving and Will’s reoccurring moans, he just about makes out a whispering; _“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.”_ A self-satisfied feeling rises in Hannibal’s chest as he leans his head back and pushes hard, feeling Will crumble helplessly beneath his fingers both mentally and physically. One more driving thrust directed at Will’s prostate and he crashes, splintering off into pieces that only Hannibal can connect and with that thought Hannibal releases; pulsing into Will’s body and sliding his hands up and down Will’s sides as the man shudders in the aftermath.

Hannibal recovers first, of course, and pulls slowly back out while keeping a hold of Will, who still seems to shake at intermittent intervals. He single-handedly tucks himself back into his trousers and then helps Will do up his own, while simultaneously keeping him up. It isn’t easy but he manages to drag Will over to the corner couch, Will murmurs sleepily every time they move and it becomes wholly tedious until Hannibal arranges Will’s body so that his head lays in Hannibal’s lap so he can easily stroke good Will’s hair.

The last thing Will hears before he falls completely asleep is Hannibal murmuring; _“’you will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’”_ And if he dreams of blood stained teeth that whisper, “This is my design.” Then he has no recollection of it the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> So the lines,
> 
> Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made.
> 
> “’you will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’” 
> 
> are from Genesis 3:1-24


End file.
